


Undisclosed Experimentation: Chapter 3, Beta Testing

by Dr_Shenk



Series: Undisclosed Experimentation [3]
Category: Emmy The Robot (Webcomic), Nandroids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:54:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28342734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dr_Shenk/pseuds/Dr_Shenk
Series: Undisclosed Experimentation [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2075418
Kudos: 3





	Undisclosed Experimentation: Chapter 3, Beta Testing

Another full year into development.  
The five chosen individuals for this grand experiment contributed what they could, but did so from a distance now.  
Mister Valebrokk of Volkman finished up an upgraded, streamlined design of the outer skin with the built-in sensory array to the first five bodies, easily re-upholstering them as they simultaneously installed the fully programmed android brains. The new branching of the artificial nervous system was now a design of combined triangular and hexagonal fractal.  
Mister Maximovich of Citadel Dynamics had swiftly shipped another five skeletal structures for the new bots, leaving them ready for being fitted for new actuators, artificial musculature and tendons.  
Yamamoto-San of Yamamoto Corporate provided those inner workings, and actually saved quite a bit of expense in the manufacture. Carbon fibers and the graphene filaments for the over-all structure and stress distribution for the completed forms was actually quite easy to come by, and a little extra was always easy to salvage from the American and Japanese governments. The combined technologies in materials were even being advertised in science magazines as better inner workings for future prosthetic limbs and perhaps future war-time or security suit usage.  
Murdoc Conglomerate was currently having a bit of a transitional period. Apparently Daniel Murphy did not read the fine print of his agreement in the coalition.  
Thanks to the liquidation of a former, very valued and talented employee of his company, and what he could have contributed to future projects, some parts of Murdoc were merged into the Sterling fold. Mostly research and development, of course, but Mr. Murphy was taking it all in stride.  
The emotional programming was given a full mapping to mesh and create new neural pathways via a constantly developing algorithm to help aid the developed robots' computer-like brain. In a way, it aided to function to a certain level of near-human artificial intelligence in terms of learning and interaction.  
The standard programming and training regimen provided by Sterling Robotics, as well as human social behavior education and aesthetic design, just cemented everything together. Plus, the world-wide familiar brand-name would put a more friendly and reliable face on the final product.  
Of course, that was providing that everything went according to plan.

Linnie-11  
Callie-22  
Minnie-33  
Winney-44  
Empie-55  
These were the first five nandroids of the commission. Fully constructed, fully programmed, fully capable. These were the gynoids that the Military Industrial Complex of the United States of America had been waiting for. Truly, fully expendable resources.

Sterling labelled these nandroids Model Series 5.0, since they were the fifth in succession of the advancements that his company would have produced in its history. But everybody in R&D just affectionately called them "The Fives."

Each of the girls could easily disguise themselves as a human woman with the right head-wear and application of "make-up", and each of their bodies was given a silhouette that was pleasing to any ne'er-do-well, or loose-morals possessing deviant that might think about trying to use them as a quick relief of frustrations. Their bodies were made to seem very fit, their physical assets pleasing to the eyes and melded in an aesthetically pleasing, symmetrical over-all shape, thanks to the sculpting skills of the people at Yamamoto Corporate. The only downside was that each of the girls looked just a little too fit for some tastes. Still, the shoulders were not too wide, and the hips were wider than a standard Sterling girl.  
Aside from the look of each girl, seeming more humanoid in build, they also have fully articulated extremities. Fully articulated hands, and fully articulated, dainty feet. With little toes, even. And yet the heads and faces stayed nearly the same. The only differences were slightly smaller eyes with the advanced orbital sockets and the lubrication ducts in the upper face. Their chins were slightly more defined, and their mouths were blessed with the gentle suggestion of lips and tongues that could actually taste. There were more practical reasons for all of these add-ons, but that would not occur to any targets singled-out by the government, or by the droids themselves, should the subjects be deemed a waste on the world or dangers to society.  
Overall, the look of "the Five's" faces and bodies overall gave the impression that each of them were modeled off of the standard design of heroines from a famous animation company. And even then, the "Fives" themselves each held the appearance of a woman that was impossibly comely in appearance. There were many in the company who wondered if somebody who used to be part of said animation company might have had some hand in the design for these new nandroids. How else would one explain the perfectly ratioed facial proportions that seemed like a kitten-faced human lady with just the right amount of exaggeration to avoid the uncanny valley?  
It was a thought that crossed the minds of many of the men and women who were not directly involved in the coalition's caucus. One such speculator was Miss Bradbury, who had been assigned to specifically see to the training and observation of the Fives. Every day she had to mentally remind herself that these were not real girls, and that they were nearly the same thing as well-constructed Muppets made of metal. They were instruments of peace-keeping and anti-terrorism...so why did they feel so familiar, so...genuine?  
They would even incorrectly address her like confused yet respectful high school students...

"Mrs. Bradbury?" asked a cautious feminine voice to a Lady whose back was turned, her hair tied in a thick braid.  
Misses Bradbury had been with the company only a little while. Only the last three years, in fact. She had graduated previously from her university, majoring in psychology, and had been employed by Mister Sterling to assist in the training and evaluation of future groups of her finalized products.  
As a way of proving her mettle, the lady Bradbury was set to task on helping with the more domestic and social training of these all-versatile nandroids.  
"Misses Bradbury??" repeated the voice, sounding desperate.  
"Miss... Yes?" responded a young woman with fashionable, wide glasses and brown hair in her clean instructor's attire.  
Her brown eyes rested on the form of a younger woman with curious but worried, slightly cartoonish eyes. And yet they were the most sincere eyes looking up at her all the same.  
Empie-55, like the other "Fives" girls, was five feet and six inches tall. Like the other four in her signature series, she was named after some military weapon(some joke by the G-men and other stripe-bearing bullet jocks) dressed in a uniform that was different than the typical maid uniform of the Sterling standard. To be frank, the young nandroid's attire more closely resembled an international response team suit. That or the costume of some young thing who was going to pose for some science fiction drama on television.  
The poor girl stood there with her voice caught in her throat as her eyes shifted in one direction and the other.  
"I...I'm not sure I understand this training regimen." Empie told the lady with glasses, seeming timid.  
Ms. Bradbury looked down to her, giving a smile, deciding to switch on her psychologist mode. "What is it that troubles you, Empie?"  
The fresh nandroid looked sideways and then up at Bradbury like she was some wise sage that had all of the answers to the universe...such was the reverence of the young and inexperienced.  
"Well, ma'am, I understand the skills we're learning for domestic care and maintenance...but do we *have* to learn all of this stuff about...well, the subduing and the...harming of people?"

Ms. Bradbury had to think very hard about how to say her next words.  
"Empie...there are people in the world...who think that their only purpose in life is to harm others in order to give themselves a sense of control. Not just over their own lives, but over the world around them. They believe that by controlling their part of the world with acts of crime and violence that somehow they keep the world from being able to control them. It gives them a juvenile, narcissistic sense of power over the uncertainty of a world they have no inherent mastery."  
The advanced nandroid seemed to be mulling the explanation over in her circuits. "But...wasn't I made to...well, to essentially just make people happy?"

There were many ways that sentence could be taken.  
"Essentially, yes..." Bradbury answered the young robot, leaving her silent and pensive. The advanced construction of these nandroid's faces made it too clear to see what their emotions were.  
Ms. Bradbury then smiled as an idea crossed her mind for how she might explain it further. "Empie, you want to make people happy? Maybe a family to care for?"  
The artificial girl thought about it and she nodded, "Of course...of course I want that. I can't think of anything more wonderful." Empie said it all like it was winning the lottery and getting rich. For what was the greater treasure for a nandroid than her family?  
Mrs. Bradbury crossed her arms, holding onto her elbows. "Alright...what about a situation...where someone, a stranger, or group of strangers came to try to harm you? You wouldn't be able to make anybody happy. You might be out of commission until you were repaired...or you might be destroyed. You wouldn't be able to make anybody happy then, would you?"  
Empie looked to Mrs. Bradbury, her eyes struck with shock, her soft form of expression all the more palpable by the structure of the artificial skin. "Well, no ma'am."  
"Indeed...now, imagine...these deranged, morally confused people I previously mentioned....they are coming after your family."  
The robot gasps, mortification plainly displayed on her face as she raised a hand up to her lips. "They might even be going after any other family...clueless...hopeless...utterly helpless."  
Each one of those emphasized words from Bradbury's mouth was like another sharp pin stabbed into the poor nandroid's artificial heart, obvious by the way that she cringed, and was obviously ready to cry.  
Bradbury stopped herself, surprised at how strongly an artificial being could feel for the sake of organic life. A tear of an aqueous solution dripped down Empie's cheek as she leaned on the wall to her left. Then the other eye leaked a drop of the solution. They looked so real. The soft, small sound of sorrow uttered from the robot's throat so perfectly imitating a real person's empathetic horror and grief.  
Ms. Bradbury reached out to rest a hand on Empie's shoulder. "I'm so sorry to put such an idea into your head, Empie... But that is the reason why you must go through the martial arts training aside from your standard nandroid schooling...so that no one's family may be harmed or lost due to a criminal's poor life choices. Do you...understand?"

The nandroid stood up from the wall and made a display of taking steadying breaths, sniffling before wiping her eyes with a kerchief hidden in a front breast pocket. The lack of capillaries in her artificial eyes kept them from turning red around the orbital retinas, but her eyes were glossy all the same. "I...I-I'm sorry I doubted the reasoning behind the training, Ms. Bradbury... Thank you for enlightening me."  
Bradbury had yet to release her hand from Empie_55's shoulder. "I...I am sorry for being so thorough, Empie. It was only because I thought it necessary." She then gestured to the nandroid to make sure she was looking her in the eyes directly. "Are you going to be alright?"  
The nandroid gave a weak smile and nodded. "Yes...yes, ma'am. I believe so. Again, thank you. I hope that I will be able to preserve the safety of the public, so no one has to lose those closest to them."

After that discussion between herself and Empie, Bradbury had questions of her own to ask of Mr. Sterling and any other potential members of the coalition.  
How were any of these girls supposed to perform their assigned purpose if they could so suddenly be wracked with intentionally programmed emotions?  
But of course, that information was not meant to be shared with Ms. Bradbury. She was not privy to such information, and the men of the commission, and the United States government wanted to keep it that way.  
A piece of information she WAS privy to, however, was that she was going to have to train each of these girls in how to train their more...salacious extremities and routines.  
She was not particularly looking forward to that in the near future. She hoped that it would not become a regular thing after this series of nandroid production.

That same year, after a small mission, cut right in the middle of the Fives girls training, due to the American government's impatience, two were sent to take out a drug cartel in Peru. Callie and Winney came home in perfect shape and even managed to save a small village from being used as human shields, and a sacrificial tactic by accurately blasting out their tires and shooting off the would-be assailants trigger fingers. So far as the girls knew, everybody, including the ne'er-do-wells they stopped, got to live and everything was turned over to the authorities. They even revealed certain trade routes for drug-runners and smugglers to not only local authorities, but the C.I.A. and Interpol. Their identities as Sterling robots was never released, except to secret intelligence agencies in America...  
But there were other parties from other countries noticing how accurately and swiftly matters were handled. That meant that regardless of Sterling or the United States trying to cover up the operatives' identities...it was too apparent that the people sent in to take down one of the world's lingering problems were not actually human.

Elsewhere...  
The online donations for Maggie's funding for her medical needs went up somewhat, but it was still too low. Maggie O'Conner was doing her best to keep little Junior fed, clean and clothed, but due to her anemia and the damage done after bearing her son, she was left weaker than she was before she was pregnant. Duncan Senior pulled double shifts at the shipping yard and the coding department job at an online delivery company office...but the pay was only enough to help get his family a house, pay the bills, keep the car, pay their taxes. Maggie's family was sending money, but they were distrustful of Duncan. What they decided to send wasn't enough, either. Somehow, Maggie's father got it into his head that Duncan was a shifty back-slider and was looking for a way to leave his daughter with the baby to die all alone.  
Duncan of course loved his darling, sickly wife and his sweet little boy with all his heart, but his father and mother in-law refused to believe that for even a moment. And they still demanded to have holiday pictures every couple of months.  
Maggie tried to offer herself getting a job as a stay-at-home telemarketer, but Duncan refused to put her into that type of position. Also, due to the amount of money not being as great as it was, especially after Maggie had to quit her job due to her condition, they had to move into a lower income neighborhood, very close to the shipyard. It was a dirtier part of the county, known for a bit more crime, especially the kind of crime that those special project nandroids he had been helping code were meant to apprehend.  
Duncan was no one's fool, though, and had made sure that his home was monitored by some decent neighbors in the area. One nice old African American lady named Misses Woodard, and another neighbor, Miss Coleja, who was a Hispanic woman who was always armed with two handguns and a butterfly knife.  
Misses Woodard helped look after Maggie and little Dunky, and Miss Coleja looked after the three of them and the house. She was naturally a little paranoid due to some bad things happening to her since she moved into the neighborhood some years ago and she had previously been looking out for the old black woman to make sure she was safe.  
The armed woman had bonded with the older lady over their loves of good food, marijuana, and a certain thick-mustachioed television star that they liked to watch on TV reruns.

Duncan thanked his lucky stars that he had help for his family. It didn't help with the financial situation, but help for his sick Maggie and his helpless little boy was worth more to him than his current paychecks. But working two jobs took it's toll.  
After a year or so of this hard work at two jobs, being away from home so often eventually led Duncan to visit a bar near the Sterling company building he used to work for. One day, one of those Sterling stiffs visited his bar. He was a man nearly as tall as Duncan was, a little heavier in build and perhaps older than him by a decade or so. He recognized the man from his days in the company, passing by him sometimes during lunch-break. The chubby man raised his head and he gave a small smile. "Say...don't I know you?" called the man from across the bar.  
"I'm not so sure, sir. But you do look a mite familiar," answered Duncan with a nod. That led the thicker man to smile and he walked over. "Yeaahhhh...You were one of the shipped-over code guys with Murdoc, right? How're ya doin', fellah?" The man seemed rather approachable, sitting next to Duncan, leaning on the bar as he parked himself on the padded stool.  
"Well, I was," explained Duncan.  
"Oh?...You don't work with us over at Sterling after the buy-out?" asked the man with a raised brow.  
"No, no. I was given the pink slip after breaking one of Murdoc's company policies."  
The man sitting next to Duncan gave a suspicious look that Duncan couldn't see as he took another swig of his glass of Guinness. "Ya don't say? So what got you canned?"  
"I went to see me wife and newborn baby boy at hospital when I should have been a good wee slave, codin' the brains of some nandroids."  
The new man looked at Duncan in disbelief. "Jesus! I knew the people in these robotics industries could be dicks, but that's a new low."  
Duncan nodded and took another small sip of his dark brew. "Hearing that Murdoc is now Sterling's bitch gives me heart a bit of warmth. At least my poor wife can feel a bit o' justice hearing that Murdoc got theirs after givin' me the boot." Duncan then turned to the man and looked at him curiously. "Oi, we're not properly introduced. I'm Duncan, and you used to know me as a Murdoc coder. What be your name and profession?"  
The other man in the gray shirt with the solid color tie puts down his beer bottle and offers his right hand to the red-haired gentleman in the tan uniform shirt, who firmly clasps it and gives it a friendly shake. "Name's Augustus, I work in the Structural Integrity and Modification Products Lab at Sterling. Maybe you've heard of it?"  
Duncan raised a brow and gave him a grin. "S-I-M-P-L, eh? I believe that's missing an E, man."  
Augustus gave a wheezing laugh. "Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh~...I know, ain't it? You'd think those people in marketing would have thought up another uppity word to justify an E! Ha-Ha-Ha!"  
The taller man returned a chuckle as he felt Augustus pat his back in mirth.  
"So what are ya doing now, Duncan? Still coding?"  
"Aye, and havin' a time at that. Anything to keep me family fed, my wife healthy and my baby boy a place to live happily." Augustus nodded to that and cook another drink from his bottle of beer. "A noble reason...but, hang on...If you're still a coder, then how come you're wearing a shipyard jockey's shirt?"  
"I do both, and not at the same company," Duncan responded before taking another sip from his glass.  
Augustus shook his head. "I just hope you don't fall asleep on the job because of it. Friend of mine used to work two jobs...cost her an arm."

A few hours later and Augustus revealed that he would sometimes take home some good left-over pieces and even get donated some replacement parts from the people at the factory with a little side-hustle of repairing or upgrading people's maid-bots. That got Duncan interested rather quick as he explained something to Augustus that so far only he and his wife knew about.  
"I snuck out a half upper torso of one of the experimental Murdoc bots when they tried to discredit my work on an emotional response project."  
"NO-Shit?! You mean it can feel emotions?"  
"More than that, she's actually able to cry."  
That gave Augustus pause. "Wait...you mean like ACTUALLY cry?..." The older man rubbed his chin, running his hand over the bristles of his beard. "You're not doing anything to make her cry on purpose, are you?"  
Duncan seemed a bit hurt at the suggestion. "Heavens sake, no~! I've just been watching movies and listening to music to see what she responds to. I'm thinkin' of uploading some Sterling extra programming into 'er and making an improved nandroid over-all. You let me know if you can find a model of nandroid body that can be modded with a Murdoc maid-bot's head, right? Thinking of havin' her take care of my Maggie like a proper lady of the house."  
Augustus nodded and bit his lip. "I'll see what I can do, but this was my last week in this location."  
"Oh, is that so?" asked Duncan, seeming a little disappointed. It had been so long since he had made any new friends since he had arrived in America.  
Augustus continued, "They're shipping me to a new office out of state. Same department. I'll keep in touch, though. Just give me your info and I'll check in on ya now and again."  
"Well, here's to you, Augustus. May our future endeavors bring us nothing but good fortune," offered Duncan as he raised his glass to him in a toast. Augustus clinked his bottle against Duncan's glass and smiled, "Amen t' that."

  
(Comments are appreciated.)


End file.
